


City of Lost Memories

by BritBritXD



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate ending to City of Heavenly Fire, Attempted rape later on, Book 6: City of Heavenly Fire, Children From The Future, Clary has the Heavenly Fire, Everyone thinks Clary died, F/F, F/M, Jace will be stressed out for most of this fic...sorry not sorry, M/M, My first attempt was awful, Sebastian still has super weird feelings for his sister, Sebastian tries to rule the world...again, Simon misses his best friend, THE STRUGGLE, The time travel part may be paradoxal, The time travel part may not make sense...just ignore it, This is my second attempt at writing this, Time Travel, Two years after City of Heavenly Fire, sorry for any inconsistencies, this is my first fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritBritXD/pseuds/BritBritXD
Summary: The fight in Edom did not end exactly how they thought it would. Something happens to Clary, and kids from the future come and save her. They take her under their wing, but have to let her old friends and family think she died. It's two years later, and she is finally going back. Things do not go the way they planned when Sebastian gets a hold of her and tries to continue on with the plan he started in Edom. Will they get to her in time before Sebastian succeeds? Read to find out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently rewrote this rewrite. Lol. I posted this a few weeks ago, but I just changed the time travel stuff. So if that stuff doesn't really bother you, you don't have to reread this, but I mean it might be helpful in the future. I only changed the stuff regarding Time travel. Anyway. Enjoy!

The crackle of the fire was dull in her ears. Warmth spread across her body, along with the numbness it had already been subjected to. All she could focus on was the mere realization that she was finally going _home._ Sure, she had been living in this tiny house for a few years, and she loved her new “friends”, but there had been only one goal in her mind for the past few years: going _home._ Caleb’s voice echoed in her ears until he snapped her attention back into focus. For a moment, Clary’s fingers twitched with the urge to draw what she was feeling, but she hadn’t gotten her sketchpad out since even before she came here.

 

The ropes being tied to her wrists felt scratchy yet secure. Gray-blue eyes bore into Clary’s own green ones with worry and uncertainty; this was uncharted territory for all of them. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” the boy, Caleb, asked.

 

Her eyes averted to the kitchen wall behind him where her own bow and arrows hung. Another pang of—what was it? Relief? Apprehension?—curved down her spine. When she used her bow and arrow, she felt like she had a piece of Alec, especially since it was _his_. She missed him as much as the others, even though he had hated her when they’d first met. Swords had always been her better armament, but her housemates only had so many weapons.

 

The island she was leaning against dug into her lower back, but without her hands free, she had to use _something_ to hold her up besides her own two feet. With her hands tied, she felt off-balance, a feeling she had gotten used to over the years. This balance wasn’t really a literal one, but the kind that just left a sense of uneasiness under her skin. She hated it. Without being with her family back home—despite the fact that her housemates technically _were_ her family—she had never been at ease, always fluttering about the house, desperate for something to do, desperate to go _home._

 

Clary nodded her head, fiery curls bouncing over her shoulders. This is it. She’s going back. All this time of healing and training, and she’s finally allowed to see her friends and family again. This time, anticipation spiked down her spine to her fingers, and yet again she itched to draw something. A slight sense of fire running down her veins caused her to take a deep breath, trying to calm down. It went away as quickly as it came.

 

A smile snaked across her lips as Caleb tightened the ropes, despite the pain that initiated from the motion. His hands were gentle on hers as he expertly tied the knots, trying to be careful not to cause her too much discomfort.

 

Blond hair entered the corner of Clary’s vision as two long arms enveloped her from behind. Seeing the silver chain hooked with a penguin charm, the red head knew immediately who was hugging her. Bevelyn. After a silent plea, Caleb stepped away from Clary as she turned around into the embrace of the usually-bubbly Shadowhunter.

 

Bevelyn’s fingers dug into the other girl’s waist as she hugged her for the both of them. Clary couldn’t move her bound wrists, not having had expected this. She had kind of hoped that everyone, except for Caleb, would have been asleep.

 

It would have made the pain more bearable.

 

“I’m sorry,” Bev whispered into Clary’s hair.

 

Pulling her head back a little, the red head furrowed her eyebrows at her friend. “For what?” Her voice came out thick with emotion, on the verge of tears.

 

The girl released her friend from the hug as if she had been stung and clasped her hands together. “For giving you the cold shoulder. I knew you were leaving, but still I refused to trust you, to forgive you. Not that there was anything to forgive in the first place.” Her words shook a little, indicating her embarrassment and regret. She looked sheepish, her head bowed.

 

Raising her bound wrists, she tucked a strand of blonde hair away from the girl’s face. “It’s not your fault any more than it’s mine. Jeremy was a complete douche bag who took advantage of the situation. You deserved better.” Clary smiled at her friend. “Besides,” she added. “I may not have handled it very well either.”

           

“You were still recovering,” Bev was quick to inform.

           

Clary rolled her eyes and shook her head. “We both did and said things we regret. Can we just forget about it?” Her pale fingers reached out and grabbed ahold of the blonde girl’s clasped ones. Her fingers were soft as flowers petals against her hand.

           

Bevelyn gave a half-hearted smile. “You’re going to do that anyway, so we might as well.” The smile was quick to fall after that.

           

Face falling, she was about to say something when she heard the scuffle of converse on the hard wood floor. Clary turned to see a little girl with downcast eyes standing in the middle of the living room, anger and despair etched into her posture. Her jet-black hair swung like smoke around the small of her back as she turned quickly around, refusing to look at Clary. She had never been all that great at speaking her emotions—she got that from her mom—and the girl’s stature screamed that she wanted to talk, but she also giving off a vibe of _Leave me alone._ Figuring out what this girl wanted half the time was a feat all on its own. Forget demons, understanding her was a full day job.

           

“Ellie,” Clary choked out. Her eyes split to Caleb for a second before she ran—hands still bound and taking slightly her off balance—to the girl, half-kneeling in front of her in order to be eye-level with her. Reaching out, Clary lightly grasped the hem of the girl’s ACDC t-shirt. Brown-gold eyes flitted to her green ones as she turned to her, tears threatening to pour from the little girl. Her face was thin, and so was the rest of her body, but she was still so strong. Seeing her ink-black hair and brown-gold eyes, Clary couldn’t help but think of Isabelle—which was to be expected, considering Elliana was Izzy’s daughter.

 

There was not much of Simon in her physically, but her mannerisms were just like him. He was there in the way she spoke and her love for all things Dungeons and Dragons. He was there in the way her big eyes glistened at her, begging her to stay without saying a word.

 

“I’m sorry,” was all Clary could manage. Elli had become somewhat of a little sister to her, just as Isabelle had been like an older sister. The little girl pressed her lips into a thin line, not daring to say a word. She had already voiced all of her disagreements with the plan, even though deep down she knew that this was what had to happen. She hugged her arms around her small frame and turned back around.

 

Clary turned back to Bev. She had on her usual mud-caked boots along with skinny jeans and a plain blue tank top. A flash of silver caught Clary’s eye, and she noticed the penguin keychain again. An identical one flashed on Clary’s own wrist. She had decided not to take it off, no matter how much it could jeopardize what they were about to attempt.

 

Eyes glistening, it was obvious how hard Bev was trying to stay strong. It reminded Clary of Luke, Bevelyn’s uncle, and her mother, Amatis. Their family had always been so strong, and even though Clary had witnessed Amatis turn into something _unnatural_ that night at the Burren, she would always look at Bev with pride of what her mother made her to be. It was also slightly confusing due to the fact that while Amatis was Bev and Caleb’s mother, the Amatis that Clary knew was not the one who birthed these two. She was a dark Shadowhunter...and their mother had always been good. They had tried to explain it to Clary once, but to no avail.

 

Then there was Caleb. His shaggy brown hair and blue eyes had nearly ever girl swooning. The others often joked about how many girlfriends Caleb went through, back where—no, when—they were from. The Shadowhunter gear hugged tight against his lean frame. He had a build very similar to Jace, but his shoulders were broader and his body not nearly as elegantly shaped. He had a smile plastered on his face, but only because _someone_ had to.

 

When Caleb’s eyes looked at her sternly, she gave one last glance towards the closed door at the beginning of the hallway.

 

Moriah.

 

Clary itched to go talk to her, to say goodbye, but goodbyes were not something Moriah was good with…if the events from the previous month had been any factor.

 

Sighing, Clary walked over to Caleb and stood in front of him, excitement and despair thrumming through her veins together like fire and ice. While she had always yearned to return home, she had formed a family of sorts with this rag-tag group of misfits. Leaving was harder than she thought it would be. Clary’s eyes flickered from Bevelyn to Ellie and back to Caleb, a knot twisting in her stomach at the sight of them.

 

There used to be ten of them. Ten kids had fought through the burning embers of time to save Clary, healing her and training her. She had grown fond of her rescuers, and when a vampire raid killed half of them, it had broken the rest. Especially when one of them was one half of a set of twins, and another was one half of a romantic couple.

 

Of the ten, there was Caleb and Bevelyn, the duo siblings who, if you didn’t hate them, you loved them. They were the darling children of Amatis Herondale and were much unlike Luke and Amatis in their sibling ways. Separating them two would never even be an option with how close they are to each other. Death alone would separate them. They had survived the raid.

 

Then there was Ashely and Corban; the two were so close they were almost joint at the hip. Ashley, a Shadowhunter, had been Alec and Magnus’ adopted daughter. Corban, a werewolf, was just an orphan. They had been dating six years and were about to get married, until the raid killed them.

 

Elliana and Rose were the spectacles of the group, the identical twins who seemed to be everywhere at once all the time. Both had been in their second year of preteen age when it happened. Isabelle presented herself in both the girls physically, but Rose was the only one who had _acted_ like her as well. Something about the girls looking like Izzy gave Clary a pang of reminiscence when she looked at them. It was nice to have something to remind her of her friend and supposed _Parabatai_ in their future.

 

Alike in many ways, the girls were influenced by their parents differently. Nevertheless, they loved each other, more than anything. When a vampire tore through Rose, something inside of Ellie broke. There is something different about losing a _Parabatai_ or a sibling, and Clary wished to never find out because if someone as strong as Elli could harden like she did, then it must be too difficult of a burden to bear. Ellie often described it as losing an arm or a leg. They were there at one time, and even though they are gone now, you still feel the ghost pains and the painful remembrance that _it will never come back._

 

Moriah and Sidney resembled Alec and Magnus in many ways. Moriah was the fierce and hardened one—as Alec was—and Sidney was the mysterious and majestic one who lived for all things fashion—like Magnus. Red curly haired fringed the sides of Moriah’s face, but the golden eyes that gleamed at her told the story of a boy who had learned that to love is to destroy. She was Clary’s daughter, and Jace’s. Sidney was Alec and Magnus’ other adopted child. She had been a warlock—purple eyes and blue hair being her demon marks—and she had died via a wooden-oak stake through the heart, her own weapon used against her.

 

Jeremy didn’t die in the raid, no matter how much the others had wished it upon him. Oh, no, he survived, but he used his freedom to kiss Clary while she had been on some serious pain meds. The raid had taken its own toll on Clary, though it had not killed her. The bad part? He had been dating Bevelyn at the time, and she had not taken too kindly to that. Nobody has heard from him since.

 

There’s probably one important piece of information being left out. All these kids, save for Clary, came from the future. When they had been told about the plan to go back in time, they left immediately, realizing the stake of their world. They had been told by their parents how the whole time-travel thing worked, but they couldn’t really wrap their head around it, and frankly, neither could Clary. Apparently, in one timeline, Clary would have succeeded in killing Sebastian with the heavenly-fire-laced Heosphoros. But in the future, one of Valentine’s old Circle members had gone back in time to stop that, only sort of succeeding. When he did, Sebastian didn’t die when plunged with the Heavenly fire, but he did become comatose. Somehow, the man had told him a spell to protect himself that only sort of worked. He then woke up in a cell many years later, and then escaped, only to find the man to go back in time to try to save his past-self once again. He had a slightly different plan this time, though; he didn’t go to the same point in history. He had him go to a time early on in the war and told past-Sebastian certain events he needed to change, like not Turning Amatis and killing both Jordan _and_ Maia. She had been the truce between the werewolves and vampires in the first reality, they had been told, so past-Sebastian took that away. Amatis had been a personal offense to his sister and her friends, and without that push…they were still adamant to kill him, but with less of a personal vendetta. That was the timeline the kids were from: Shadowhunter—human—Amatis and a dead Maia and Jordan. Still, Clary managed to stop him, and he still got captured.

 

This time, his plan had been to do something different, something that didn’t involve just saving himself. He had a bigger picture that the kids wouldn’t tell her. They had been sent out to protect the angelic girl and had taken her in to allow her to heal from the demon boy’s attack.

 

At first, they had been confused by how their parents even knew about the previous time-travel attempts in the first place, but apparently the Iron Sisters had more to their job description than they were letting on. The Iron Sisters had actually been the ones to give their parents the order to send them in. Just like Sebastian could never be the one to go back in time himself, the children’s parents couldn’t go back in time where they already existed, so they sent the kids. Brilliant plan.

 

Their parents had told them Clary was supposed to protect someone important, the key to stopping the war. Now, none of them had been told what war or who that person might be, but they still did what they could. They knew that they had to stop history from letting Sebastian win, or—

 

“We can never go back to our timeline.” Caleb had said, rather intensely. “If Sebastian wins, then he will have created a new timeline...one that will ensure his success, and he will find a way to cut us off from going back to ours. We will never to be able to go home.”

 

No pressure.

 

This news had been a little _unexpected,_ to say the least. At first, Clary hadn’t even believed them. She thought that maybe she had actually died in Edom, and they were her angels, but that thought was immediately dismissed by how _bazaar_ the whole situation was. People from the future? Wanting to save _her_ of all people? And not only people, but _children_. Children of her friends and family.

 

It was like learning about the Shadow World all over again. The craziness and just the outright impossibility of it all telling her, yet again, “But wait, there’s more.”

 

Eventually, they had drilled the story into her head enough times that it was like hearing about the weather, mundane. She also grew to fall in love with this little make-shift family. She missed those who had died in the vampire raid. Ashely, Corban, Rose, and Sidney all gave their lives for their friends. Now, only Caleb, Bevelyn, Elliana, Moriah, and Clary were here.

 

Jeremy was still alive, and while Clary wished to just forget about him and put it all behind her, she knew that him being missing could garner a huge problem later. Where was he? Was he changing history too much? Did it even matter? She didn’t know.

 

Nonetheless, Clary didn’t think on it too much. Soon, she wouldn’t even remember it, and she wanted to spend her last moments thinking of good things, like her new family. She missed her friends back home, a sorrow so deep she never thought she’d get rid of, but she also hated that she had to leave her new ones. Nervousness hummed in her veins, and she had to visibly restrain her hands from shaking, sparks coming off her finger tips.

 

Her thoughts quickly shifted to Simon. Hearing about what he had become in the future filled her with content and peace. There was one thing he had hated the most since finding about the Shadow World, and he didn’t have to fear it anymore. Just the thought that going back meant he wouldn’t get that freedom anymore shattered her heart, but she knew that maybe she would find a way to help him. Still, a part of her would be whole again simply by being back with him.

 

Alec was another man in her life that she would be happy to see, him and Magnus both. It’s no secret that he hated her at first, but she missed how he always treated her like the little sister he never wanted: annoying, but he still loved her. Seeing Magnus again would be like walking into a surprise birthday party: glitter everywhere and an unusual amount of biscuits. It was comforting to finally be seeing the man who had helped keep her safe nearly her whole life.

 

Thinking about Jace was too overwhelming. It was like getting an intense kiss, it made her weak in the knees. Too many emotions and thoughts swelled inside of her when he crossed her mind, and this moment was no different. She was scared, eager, depressed, and furious all at the same time. But for now, she focused on her feelings of eagerness. She would finally be with him after all these years. The smile on her face broke out in a grin.

 

As if reading her thoughts, Bevelyn smiled also. “Tell Jace I said hi,” she said.

 

For a moment, Clary hesitated, a million different emotions rushing at her all at once. Shyly, she turned her head to look at the blonde. “Bev, I-”

 

“I know,” Bevelyn interrupted, eye averted to her own muddy boots. “You can’t. Forgetting us and everything, I know.”

 

“Hey,” Clary said in a soft voice. Her fingers reached up and gently steered Bev’s face to look up at her. Looking at the girl’s red and watery eyes, Clary continued, “You know I love you, right? You’re the sister I never knew I wanted, and there’s nothing that any spell can do to take that away. Okay? I may not remember it, but it’ll always be there.”

 

Nodding, Bevelyn took a step back, murmuring an “I love you, too” as she did so.

 

Clary turned and locked her gaze on Caleb, gently grabbing his hands in hers, eyes saying what she couldn’t say out loud. _I love you, as well. You’re the brother to me that_ he _never will be, the brother I wish I had been given instead._

 

He nodded, expression saying that he understood. They had always managed to be able to speak to one another with just their eyes, and this time was no different. But he chose to say the next words out loud, echoing his sister’s “I love you, too.”

 

Sparing one last glance at Ellie, who had her arms tightly wrapped around herself. She wished to go back over and hug the small girl, but she knew better. Flicking her eyes to the hallway, Clary again hoped that she’d see a flash of red hair and gold eyes, but they didn’t come. That was probably for the best.

 

Giving her full attention to Caleb, she saw that he had some herbs and magic vials in his hands. He began speaking as he lathered her arms and face with the herbs and whatever was in the vials. He then grabbed his stele off the counter and looked at her for permission before slightly lifting up her shirt and setting the stele to her skin. It burned for only a moment.  “Okay, now I’m going to go over this again.” He cleared his throat and continued. “The rope is so you don’t scratch any of the herbs off you, and because it is part of the spell, something about it symbolizing your memories. Also, the rune I just put on you will flare up, and I don’t want you to scratch it off. The magic in the portal will combine its energy with the magic I am putting on you and will cause the right memories to—say, go away. We’ll be wiped clean from your mind, but everything before you met us you will keep. But remember, do your best to not take this rope off. It doesn’t say what could happen, but since it symbolizes your memories…I would say that removing it would be a bad thing once the spell has started.

 

“Once back in New York, you will remember none of the past two years. That’s what I am for. I’ll use the story I made up to better smooth out the plot holes when your family finds you. Okay?”

 

Clary nodded her head, eager to get going.

 

“Alright, then that’s that, I guess. Let’s go.” He tightened the ropes on her wrists once more—almost sadly letting his fingers glide over the bracelet on her pale wrist—before turning around to make a rune for a portal. As he drew, Clary gave one last glance to Bevelyn who gave her a small wave. Clary returned it, mouthing goodbye for the last time.

 

Once drawn, the wall he had used was drowned out by a huge space-like hole. There was a hand on the red head’s shoulder, powder blown in her eyes, and then it seemed as if her stomach was falling to the ground.

 

As soon as her foot crossed into the portal, her wrists instantly started burning as if on fire, and she screamed as if they were so. A spot on her stomach also started burning, and she couldn’t help it as another scream ripped from her throat. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she struggled with what was causing her so much pain. Almost as soon as it started, the sensation and the pressure went away, a feeling of freeness washing over the area.

 

She sighed in relief, but then images started to flash behind her eyes.

 

A tall blonde girl with blue eyes smiled mischievously at her, but then she started to fade. A boy with different hair but the same eyes frowned at her, but then broke out into a smile. He too vanished, along with a petite-looking child who had smoky-black hair and tears in her eyes. Then there was a girl with curly red hair and gold eyes until she, too, was gone. She disappeared before Clary could even grab onto the name.

 

Suddenly, other images came to her and vanished just as quickly. Two people with the same ink-black hair but different-colored eyes came and went before she could get a good look at them. Then there was a boy with gold hair and gold eyes. Jace, Clary thought. He smiled at her, but then he was gone.

 

Others came into view, and they too disappeared, leaving Clary feeling even more lightheaded as she felt like she was falling. Memories came and went before she could even grab a hold. It was dizzying.

 

Pain ebbed its way across Clary’s back as she slammed into the ground. She coughed but didn’t dare open her eyes, afraid of what would happen if she did. Moving her wrists, they screamed at her. She peaked open her eyes to look at them, and she appeared as if they had been scorched. When had she been on fire?

 

Eyes darting about her, Clary took in her surroundings. Grass surrounded her, and off to the left of was an old-looking home that appeared to double as a bookstore, with a wooden fence around the back. _Where am I?_ She thought.

 

Shaking her head, Clary started to stand when a hand appeared in her view. Any progress she had made trying to get up was lost in the jolt of shock that raked through her. Stumbling back down, her hands rammed into the grass as she attempted one last effort at keeping herself upright. The hand above her shook a little, and Clary looked up to see a tall boy laughing at her. His handsome brown hair and dashing blue eyes were not enough to stop the flash of frustration she felt at him laughing at her. He had on all black, looking a little like the stereotypical guy who rides motorcycles.

 

Clary vigorously ignored the hand and stood up, brushing off her pants. Once all the grass was off her olive jeans and gray tank, she looked back to the boy. As if sensing her frustration, he retreated his hand and shoved it forcefully into his pockets.

 

“Rough landing?” He asked uneasily, eyes nervously dancing from her to the house.

 

Squinting her eyes at him, she threw her hands up exasperatingly. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

 

“Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said you were bad with names. I mean, I feel like I should be offended, considering I saved your life.” When she just stared at him, he hurried to continue. “Um, my name is Thomas, remember? We’re _kind of_ friends.”

 

“Friends?” The red head asked suspiciously. “I’ve never met you before in my life.” Sensing something wrong, Clary took a few steps back.

 

Almost instinctively, the boy—Thomas—took a step forward and was instantly a foot away from her. He dipped down and locked eyes with her, staring at her briefly before easing back on his heels, a scowl stretched across his baby face. A scowl that almost seemed fake. “Sebastian took your memories, didn’t he?

 

“Who’s Sebastian?” Clary asked, eyeing this guy as if he was an alien, which he probably was, for all she knew.

 

“That ba-“ He seemed to start automatically, but he cut himself off, almost as if choking them off. His eyes flitted to her for a long, horrified second, widening in what appeared to be realization and horror. His lips parted, suddenly appearing to be at a loss for words. “You—He’s—What do you mean ‘Who’s Sebastian’?”

 

“What else could I mean by that question?” She asked slowly, as if speaking to a dumb animal. Seriously, who was this dude?

 

“I just—it’s just that—How on—” He broke off his attempt at making a coherent sentence, took a deep breath, and then continued, speaking rather rapidly. “What all do you remember, exactly?”

 

She looked at him questioningly but continued anyway. “Um, well, the first thing I remember is falling on my butt and then you randomly talking to me.”

 

He shook his head, like that wasn’t what he was asking for. “No, no, not just this moment, but like ever. What all do you know.”

 

“That’s it.” She said simply.

 

“What do you mean ‘ _That’s it’_?”

 

“That’s all I remember.”

 

“Like ever?”

 

She gave a curt nod. “Yeah.”

 

Pause. “Do you know who you are?”

 

“No…” She stated perplexedly. “I can tell you how long it takes to get from Manhattan to Amityville, and the best place to buy art supplies, but I can’t tell you my name.” She paused, confusing even herself by what she said. “I feel weird asking, but what is it?”

 

“You’re…” His eyes raked over her worriedly. They halted at her bloodied wrists, her _bare_ bloodied wrists. “Oh, _f_ -”

A loud car honk startled them both, interrupting the biker guy from his near-profanity. Clary turned to see a tall man with dark, uneven hair and a similarly-colored short, scruffy beard walk out of the building, grumbling and then making a forceful show of pressing the button on the car keys in his hand until it clicked unlocked instead of honking. He was holding a large mug that read _NYPD_ , but something told her that he wasn’t a cop.

 

Clary, oddly drawn to the man, started to move towards him when Thomas grabbed her arm. He shook his head. “Something went wrong, I have to take you back.”

 

“Take me _back_? The _hell_ you are.” She harshly tried to pull her arm out of the boy’s grasp, but his grip tightened, almost to the point of pain.

 

“Clary,  _please—”_

 

The sound of glass shattering to the ground made both of their heads jerk up. The man who had been trying to get into his car was now gaping shamelessly at both of them, but he was staring at _her._ There was a puddle at his feet of whatever dark liquid was in his mug, but he didn’t even seem to notice. She heard a soft _“Luke”_ escape Thomas’s lips, but she wasn’t focused on him anymore.

 

“Clary?” The man asked tentatively, almost in a horrified manner, his long legs pushing him towards her in only a few steps. He hesitantly reached out and touched her forearm. After a long pause of no one saying anything, he gripped her forearm and yanked her forward, wrapping his long arms around her. She realized he was trembling, his arms closing her in tighter and tighter.

 

She wanted to say that she was weirded out by this, but it felt _warm_. Maybe she actually had a family, and this was her father or uncle or something.

 

Before she could speak, he continued on. “Oh, Clary, thank the Angel. How is this possible? Where have you been?” He then quickly pushed her away, holding onto her shoulders at arm’s length, staring intensely at her. She just stared dazedly at him. Close up, she could see that he had really deep blue eyes, eerily similar to the boy’s that was right next to her. Even the hair-

 

“Sorry to butt into this little reunion, but Clary here seems to remember nothing about anything…so you might be freaking her out just a little bit.” Thomas interjected.

 

The older man—Luke—sharply released her arms as if he’d been stung but didn’t relinquish his gaze except to glance at the boy, as if just noticing him for the first time. Yup, they had strangely similar eyes. “What?” Luke asked, his blue eyes igniting in confusion and horror.

 

“Uh, well, here’s the thing. It, um, it appears that Sebastian has stolen her memories. He kidnapped her, and I found a way to escape with her. He must have somehow figured out how to erase her mind, though. I was never there, I was a prisoner myself, but I assume what he did to her or what she saw while she was there is something he wanted to keep secret.” She knows the explanation was more for Luke than herself, but she couldn’t help but listen on and notice how… _rehearsed_ his explanation sounded. It just added to the growing uneasiness she felt towards this strange boy.

 

Luke tore his gaze from Clary and turned it on the boy, brows furrowing. Clary didn’t really remember her past self, but she could _tell_ that she was not a patient woman. Listening to them two talking about her as if she’s not there was really getting on her nerves. “He appears to have taken more than just what he did to her, then. What’s wrong with her?”

 

Double pairs of blue eyes fell on her, and she felt her blood boil, but she didn’t say anything. Thomas sighed, roughly running a hand down his face. “She doesn’t remember anything of anybody. She doesn’t even know her own name.” He said defeatedly.

 

Crossing her arms over her chest like a child, Clary stood her ground. “I know my name’s Clary.”

 

Thomas waved her off and turned his attention back to the older man. “I know you don’t know me, but just know that I did everything I could to bring her back, and I am willing to take her with me to find a cure for her memories.”

 

The older man shook his head immediately, glancing wearily at Clary. “No—No, I just got her back. I’m sure there is something the Silent Brothers can do.” At that, Thomas snapped his head up. There was wonder in his eyes, but the rest of his face was perfectly masked. The boy started to open his mouth to reject him, but Clary watched as something shifted behind the older man’s eyes. “I am not letting her out of my sight. That is final.”

 

Thomas stepped back with his hand raised, as if to surrender. “Okay, take care of her. And Clary?” She looked sharply up at his face. “I will figure this out, and I _will_ fix it. Do you think you will be able to hold on for a while and stay with Luke?” He reached out and lightly touched her forearm, a pained look on his face, as if he was holding himself back from something.

 

Shyly, Clary nodded and watched as he turned and walked down the street. There was something _unsettling_ about him leaving, like she would miss him, though she didn’t even know him. Though maybe she did, and she was just missing something.

 

She turned back to Luke and saw him staring confusedly at the boy. “He knew my name.” He shook his head and then turned to her, his eyes lighting up. Without saying a word, he reached out a hand to Clary. Hesitantly, she grabbed it, and he started to guide her to the house-bookstore type building.

 

When she looked back, Thomas was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb deals with the aftermath of telling the others what happened.

            Stepping out of the portal, Caleb nearly sprinted across the empty field into the small house. He rammed his way through the kitchen door, immediately reaching up and opening all the cabinets, frantically pulling out all the herbs he had previously used. Opening and slamming shut the cabinets was obviously making a loud noise, but he personally couldn’t bring himself to care. He had to figure this out, and he needed to do it fast.

            He heard the scrape of muddy boots against tiled floor before he heard her speak.

            “What happened?” Bevelyn asked. His sister had always been really quick to pick up on when he was stressed out, but right now he really didn’t want to worry her.

            “It’s nothing. I’ll fix it.” More clanging sounded as he pulled more herbs and potions down, probably more than he even used. Better to be safe than sorry.

            A gentle hand on his arm stopped his motions. He shuddered a suppressed panic attack and rammed his hands down onto the counter for support. Glancing down slightly, he saw the Garroway ring glint scornfully on her fingers, as if even _it_ knew of his failure.

            He remembered when he gave it to her, those few years ago. He had been 15 at the time, and she had been 13, and they were at the lake that Luke had said he used to always take Clary to as a kid. A little down the bank, there were steeps rocks that jutted off and up fairly high above the lake, and a couple other boys were up there wrestling and pushing each other off. He had vowed to himself then and there that he would never go up those rocks. So, of course, Bevelyn, the dare-devil herself, had no sooner thrown her muddy boots at her brother before she was racing up the rocks.

            Heart racing, he watched her push past the boys currently manhandling their friend, run, and then dive graciously into the water. He would have held up ten fingers to show her score had he not currently been having a panic attack. She swam her way back to him and made her way up the muddy path. When she reached him, he was still frozen in shock, and all she did was laugh, like watching him having a panic attack over her near-death was something just absolutely _hilarious._

            Somehow, though, she had managed to convince him to walk up the rocks with her to the top. Before he stepped off, though, he remembers pulling off the Garroway ring that Sister Cleophas had made for him and solemnly handing it over to his sister. He told her it was hers if he didn’t survive this, and all she had done was roll her eyes and push him off the cliff.

            Even though six years later he still complains to her about pushing him off, he never asked for the ring back. She had always been braver than he could ever be, and he felt that if anyone deserved that ring, it was her.

            “Tell me, Ebby,” she said softly, using the hand on his shoulder to turn him around. Once he was facing her, he couldn’t help but lock eyes with her identical ones. He saw the concern and determination there. _There she goes again_ , he thought _, already ready to take whatever is thrown at her._ “I can take it. Was it Clary?”

            He sighed, raking a hand through his messy hair. He didn’t even know where to begin to explain how he had monumentally screwed up. He _knew_ he should have practiced the spell more, he _knew_ it. Maybe if he had taken Magnus up on his offer to train him in potion making as a kid, he would have had more experience. Shrugging her hand off his shoulder, he paced a couple feet away from her. “Clary lost her memories.”

            The look Bevelyn gave him was one of _Well, duh_ , but of course she didn’t _verbally_ say it. “That, uh, was the point, wasn’t it?” Her brows furrowed while her hand went up to lightly push his sweaty hair out of his face, her duck charm grazing his cheek. “So she couldn’t remember who we are.”

            “No,” he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” Caleb ran a hand down his face as he turned his body fully to hers. It was then that he noticed her puffy eyes and tear stains on her cheeks. “I mean she lost her memories, all of them.” Her hand jerked back.

            Silence, then, “All of them?”

            He gave a hesitant nod. “She—she doesn’t even know who she is.”

            Her pale fingers then clasped roughly against the bracelet on her wrist, and her eyes widened, fear and betrayal imminent in them. She took a staggering step back. “How—how could you let this happen? Caleb, do you know what this could _do_?”

            A sudden shudder shot through his body, causing him to momentarily close his eyes. When he opened them, a little anger had dissipated from her eyes, and she appeared as if she wished she hadn’t said that. “I know,” he winced. “I screwed up. I-”

            “No, Ebby. I didn’t mean that. I don’t blame you, it’s just-”

            “You blame me. Don’t try to hide it, it’s fine. I blame me, too.” He turned back to the mess he had made on the counter. “She managed to rip off the ropes, and I think she scratched at the rune I made on her ribs. Those ropes, we need to get them back. They symbolized her _memories_ , Bev. Getting them back has to help somehow…and maybe retracing the rune.”

            Something flashed behind Bev’s eyes this time. Anger, maybe? “The _ropes?_ You want us to find some flimsy ropes that she ripped off herself while mid- _portal_? They could literally be _anywhere,_ Caleb! Why didn’t you make sure they were tight enough?” Her voice was slowly rising to a shout, though she was visibly trying to control it.

            He sighed exasperatedly, “I didn’t want her to lose her hands! Those are kind of her utensils for both painting and, I don’t know, _using Ithuriels gift._ ” He raked another hand through his already-tousled hair.

            A soft scuffle of converse on the kitchen floor had both siblings glancing up to see a red-faced Elliana. Her ACDC t-shirt had been wrinkled, as if she had been wringing it out, and only one of her shoes was tied. Her ink-black hair was loose and in tangles behind her shoulders, but all of her focus was on Bev and Caleb.

            For an eleven-year-old, she looked _rough_ to say the least. “Bev? Ebby? What’s going on?”

            Bev briefly locked eyes with Caleb before slowly walking towards the child, hands raised. “Nothing, Ellie. Everything’s fine, this doesn’t concern you.”

            The little girl’s face hardened instantly, fire flashing behind her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Bevelyn. You know how I feel about lying.”

            At Bev’s silent glance, Caleb nodded, and she backed away.

            Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time since getting back, he leaned against the counter, not even attempting to hide the mess he had made on the counter. “How much did you hear?”

            Ellie looked at him unashamedly, arms instinctively crossing across her small torso. “All of it.”

            Caleb nodded his head softly, having already known she would say that. He was going to add something before he realized he should just let her start.

            Brown-gold eyes met blue ones as Ellie’s gaze flitted between both of the siblings and the floor. “She doesn’t remember anything,” she mumbled, as if trying to make herself believe it. When all Caleb did was nod, she continued, looking up. “Not even herself?”

            Avoiding her eyes, he nodded again. He hated this. All that they had worked for in these past two years had been thrown away like garbage, the relationships they had formed, the memories they had made _and_ the ones they were supposed to protect. It was all gone. They had failed. He didn’t want to remind Ellie of that, though. “She knows her name…but only because I told her what it was.”

            “Where is she now?” She asked, voice small.

             “With Luke. I told him to watch over her, and I know he’ll keep her safe.”

            When Caleb looked up again, he saw just how much the news was getting to her. Eyes watering, she stared at him, the hurt evident in her gaze. Her small hands clenched into fists, visibly trying to stop herself from crying. She had always hated crying in front of people, she felt like it made her seem weak. No matter how many times they told her that wasn’t so, she still believed that. It probably didn’t help that the older ones never cried in front of the others, either.

            Ellie took a deep breath and unclenched her fists, gaze hardening. “What’s the plan now?”

            At this, the siblings were both at a loss for words. Bev looked pleadingly over to her older brother, and while he wanted to give both of them an answer, he couldn’t.

            “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. Waving to the mess on the counter, he explained, “I was hoping I could figure out how to re-do the spell, or undo it, or fix what happened, but I don’t even know where to begin. I should have known this was too dangerous, but I didn’t _think_. This is on me, and I _will_ fix it.” He paused, looking at his feet. “I just don’t know how, yet.”

            A hand gently fell on his shoulder, and he realized Bev had moved over to him. She squeezed gently, wordlessly telling him that it’s okay. “We don’t blame you, Eb. I was angry earlier, and maybe I still am, but I don’t blame you.” He looked up at her and saw the truth in her eyes. “We’ll figure this out, _together._ Until then, Clary will be with her friends and family. I’m sure they’ll look for something while we do.”

            He reached up and put his own hand on hers where it rested on his shoulder. He glanced over to where Elliana was standing and saw her furrowed brows. “Luke did say something about the Silent Brothers. I remember the Clary back home telling me about how they helped her with her memories once before. Maybe they can do it again.” And, more to himself, he added, “I know Jace would never give up without a fight.”

            Bev gave an encouraging smile, retracting her hand and using it lean against the island. “So what-”

            “That’s it!” Ellie’s shout startled both of them. “Jace!”

            At their confused looks, she gave a frustrated yet excited squeal.

            “Jace!” She said again. “And my dad! They can bring her memories back. If anyone can do it, it’s them. She talked about them more than anyone else while she was here. Maybe all it takes is for her to see them!”

            As much as he wanted to believe that, he wasn’t really all that sure he could hope that much. But then again, maybe she had a point. What more could represent her memories than the people themselves. Maybe if they could get all of them together, it’d do _something_ to tide her over until he figured out what to do.

            Biting his lip, he gave a slow nod. Ellie’s face lit up, but Bev still looked doubtful.

            “Should we really waste time trying to-” She started.

            “What else have we got to lose?”

            Pause.

            Her shoulders sagged, but then she straightened and stared at him, her faith in him evident as ever. He internally shook his head. He had been expecting an argument. But no, she had so much trust in him, and someday it’d get her hurt. He was sure of it.

            “Okay,” he started, taking a deep breath. “It’s a good idea, and right now, it’s the best we have. Bev, I need you to go find Simon. You’re the only one who’s kept tabs on him while Clary was healing. I’ll go find Jace. He’s more likely to put up a fight, and I’ve actually trained with him before, so I’m more likely to make him understand before he kills me.”

            Ellie gulped. “Kills you?”

            He shrugged. “Jace told me that the one thing that calms him is war, so you can bet he’s not going to be very trusting when I tell him Clary’s alive.”

            Bev gave him an incredulous look. “But he won’t _kill_ you over it.”

            “Oh, really? The Jace we know isn’t the Jace that’s in this time.” At her disbelieving gaze, he shook his head. “The Jace we know would listen to us. He’s the one who trained us, told us stories, and even taught you how to play the piano. This Jace? He’s a warrior through and through, but he’s a warrior who’s been broken and reset time and time again. He despises the Clave, and he’s lost who he is. You’ve seen what I’ve seen regarding what he’s become since we stepped through the portal in Edom. You _know._ So, try and tell me he isn’t absolutely willing to kill anyone who lies to him about something as big as Clary’s _survival_.”

            At her silence, he continued, almost nonchalantly. “He’ll probably go for my throat as soon as I say the words, actually.”

            Bev raked a hand through her dirty-blonde hair, stress etched into her every feature. He saw her hands shaking. “I hate this.”

            He reached out for her, but he stopped himself, letting his hand fall. “I know. This-”

            “I want to go,” Ellie’s voice rang through.

            “Absolutely not,” both Bev and Caleb shot out immediately.

            The preteen girl gave an exasperated groan, her mouth opening probably to retort something like _Why not?_ before Caleb quickly perisisted. “That’s not even an option.”

            “But-“

            “No,” he interrupted. “It’s too dangerous. You could slip up and say too much. If you expose who we really are, things could go bad, _very bad_. We could end up not existing anymore. Everything we do needs to be done to ensure that our timeline stays _intact._ We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

            “But I want to see Mom again, and Dad, too.” Her lips quivered, but Caleb shook his head.

            He walked over to her and kneeled in front of her, raising his hands to grab hers. “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just too dangerous. I’m so sorry.”

            Her lips wobbled, and her body quickly jerked away from him just as he touched her. She gave him one last betrayed look before she turned and ran back to her room. The door slammed shut, and a picture frame on the wall shattered on the ground from the mere force of it.

            Caleb shuffled over and picked it up, Bevelyn close behind.

            He held the picture in his hands. It was of the Ten.

            Clary had insisted on taking it last year after their first hunt together. She had finally healed from her physical wounds after months of being in a coma, and they had caught whiff of a demon attack upstate. Caleb had been hesitant, as Clary had just gotten herself together, and she was still trying to get a firm grasp on the _other problem_. To add to that, none of them had done any serious hunts like that one before, so it was safe to say he was a little uneasy.

            Somehow, though, she had managed to convince him. Bev had a been a big factor in that, too, of course. Ashley and Corban had been more than eager to do it. Rose had been all _I bet I’ll be better than mom_ , and Ellie had punched her in the arm for that comment. Jeremy was always looking for a fight, and he had played a big part in riling Bev up, both of them being disgustingly in love and eager to please the other.

            Moriah had been the main one, besides him, to be hesitant. Nothing else pleased her more than when Clary was safe and behind protected doors.

            _“I’ve already lost my mom once. I—I can’t do it again.”_

            _“You won’t,” Clary had promised._

_Sidney had reached for her hand then, reassuring her. “She’s never been in safer hands, Mo._ Your _hands.”_

Sidney had always been her strength, and remembering that had him looking towards the redhead’s closed door. It’d only been a month or so since the Raid, but she barely ever came out of her room, save to go to the bathroom or grab a small meal. Usually, she just stayed in there, and there were days when they had to force feed her.

            Looking at the photo now, he couldn’t help the sob that wracked its way through his body. They had all been so happy, so _clueless_ as to what would happen not even a full year later. Sidney had been holding Moriah’s hand. Ashley and Corban were lip-locked, their wedding rings glinting out from next to Bev and Caleb, who were both intensely, but jokingly, trying to get in front of the other. Rose and Ellie had locked arms, Rose having leaned over to her twin, whispering something into her ear. Jeremy had been giving finger guns to the camera, but Caleb wished with every ounce of himself that he had never been in the picture at all. Clary, of course, was in the center of it all, laughing.

            He had never seen it before, but there was something else in Clary’s gaze. She was laughing, the actions of her new-found friends being impossible _not_ to laugh at, but her eyes told another story. They told of longing, _yearning_ for something that she wouldn’t see for a while. She had always tried to make the best of her situation, but Caleb knew she was never _truly_ happy there. Yes, they were technically her family, but they didn’t mean to her quite what she meant to them. As much as she tried to smile through it, he could always tell.

            His hand tightened on the frame, pieces of glass biting into his palm.

            The same hand from earlier placed itself back on his shoulder from where he was kneeling. “I was wondering how you were handling this so well.” She murmured. “Now I see that you weren’t.”

            He gently took her hand off his shoulder and stood, turning to face her. “It never really occurred to me how much it would hurt to have her not recognize. I knew she wouldn’t, had even planned for it, but nothing could prepare me for it. It was like—like she had slapped me. It was her death all over again.”

            She shuffled her muddy boots, duck charm clinging against the chain. “I have to be honest. That’s the only reason I didn’t argue with you when you said you were going to be the one to take her back. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it, and seeing you know, I know I was right. I’m sorry I put that on you, it was selfish.” She tightly clasped her hands together, looking anywhere but at him.

            “Bev, no.” His hand, the one that _hadn’t_ started to bleed from the glass, reached up to lightly push her chin up to face him. When her blue eyes met his, he smiled at her, desperately holding back his own tears. “I’m the one Magnus taught magic to. Shadowhunters are virtually incapable of using magic, but he chose _me_ to be the one to teach the spell to, using that Rune. It would have taken me too long to teach you, too. It’s pointless for you to beat yourself up over something you couldn’t have helped.

            “Besides,” he added. “I’m _honored_ that it was me. It gave me a little more time with her, even though it wasn’t exactly what I was hoping it would be.”

            She sniffled, rubbing hastily at her eyes. She gave a pitiful attempt at a smile. “And I guess you could look at this way. You’ll see her again. Maybe not _you_ you, but a version of yourself will see her again.”

            That didn’t help in the slightest bit, but he squeezed her arm anyway. “Thanks for trying, but it doesn’t really help, considering the Clary _we_ know is dead. This Clary will never know this me. I’ll be a lost memory to her, Thomas only.”

            It was then that she noticed his bloody hand. She let the conversation pause momentarily as she reached for it and her stele, gently burning an _iratze_ into his skin. When she shook her head, he couldn’t tell if it was at his injury or their situation. Everything was just one big mess. She let their hands fall.

            Suddenly inhaling sharply, Bev gave him a pointed gaze. “Speaking of lost memories, we should really get going. The sooner we get to Jace and the vampire, the sooner we can get back to figuring out another spell.”

            His face scrunched up in confusion. “Simon’s not a vampire. Lily is proof of that.” He said, but at Bev’s _You idiot_ gaze, he realized, wanting to hit himself on the head. “Right. I’m an idiot. That’s the future. Sorry. Yeah. You go get him. Remember to-”

            “Hide my face. I know, I know. I don’t see why, though. You didn’t hide yourself.”

            “That—that’s because…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit to himself what was obvious to them both.

            “…You wanted her to slightly remember you? To see your familiar looks and semi-remember you? I know. I’d probably have done the same.” She gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm and turned away.

            “Bev, wait.” When she turned back to him, he spoke before he could stop himself. “Maybe…maybe you don’t have to glamour yourself. I didn’t, and nothing drastic happened.”

            She raised an eyebrow. “…Except for Clary completely losing her memories.”

            Grumbling to himself, he reconsidered his words. “Okay. Never mind. Just…the main one who has to hide her features is Moriah. She’s clearly the love child of Jace and Clary. Lily can’t either, looking too much like Izzy, but she can’t go anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

            Ellie nodded her head and turned on her heels but ran into a shadow of a girl they once knew.

            “What’s going on? You said my name.” Moriah asked, tear stains still on her cheeks, old and new ones alike. Her pale face was gray with grief. She looked around a little and sniffled. “Where’s mom? I’m ready to say goodbye.”

            Bev and Caleb exchanged a long, horrified look. They had nearly forgotten about how she would handle all of this. Caleb chose his next words carefully. “She…she already went back, Mo.” At her quickly widening eyes, he tried to rush on. “She was going to wait, but-”

            “No,” her voice was hushed but horrified. “No.” She said a bit louder, voice shaking. Her small body then went crashing to the floor as her knees buckled, hitting the floor harshly. “I wanted to say goodbye. I—I wanted—I” A strangled sob escaped her lips, and Bevelyn rushed over and threw her arms around the redhead. Her gold eyes filled with tears again, and she let out a sob. “I didn’t get to say goodbye,” she whispered. “I’ve lost her all over again.”

_To love is to destroy_.

            Nausea clenching his stomach, Caleb took a step back, eyes going to Bev’s who, without saying a word, motioned for him to leave. He hesitated but rushed over to his room, grabbed his Chakram, and then headed to the door, his stele already out and making a portal.

            Stepping through, the last thing he hears is Ellie’s door opening and a loud cry echoing throughout the small house.

            Of them all, Moriah always did have it the hardest.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was pretty uneventful, but I needed y’all to get to know my OC’s, so this is what came of it. Just so you know, this is all important. It’s not just fluff. Knowing my OC’s is really important going on with the story. They are all vital to the events that will happen in the upcoming chapters.   
> I do want to say that, yes, I do know that I said duck instead of penguin for the charm that Bev was wearing, but I realized how much more significant it would be if they both had a charm of the one animal that Jace fears the most. Like a little inside joke. So, I changed it. Sorry not sorry. Lol. I could go back and change the first chapter…but nah. Too much effort. Lol. Oh, and you’ll find out what the other problem is in a couple chapters. I hinted at it in chapter 1, but that’s about all I’m telling. I’m hoping it tweaks your interest.  
> If you’re reading this, please tell me if you like it! If it totally sucks, tell me that, too! Lol. I will literally take anything. I just need some input, guys. I rewrote this whole fic because of how awful my writing in the first version one was, so I would really appreciate any kind of notice on how my writing is.  
> Sorry if this chapter was a tad short, by the way. I’ll try to make the others a bit longer like the first one. Though I guess four thousand words is about average for a chapter in published books.


	3. Chapter 3

The ground before him bore the names of many, and it told of the stories of hundreds of Mundanes who lived and died in a world they didn’t even know half of. Part of him wanted to scoff at how blind they were, but the other part was just so _tired_ of thinking of them like that. At least they hadn’t lost everything to a psychopathic half-breed who had somehow _always_ seemed to be one step ahead. No matter how hard they had tried, they still lost.

 

Izzy was always quick to say they hadn’t lost _everything_. Sebastian’s army had been obliterated; Sebastian himself had vanished, and all but _one_ had made it back alive, so even though they lost a loved one, they won the war.

 

Jace couldn’t quite see it that way.

 

_All but one._

 

Cold water dripped off his golden strands, and his boots squelched as they sunk into the wet earth with every step. The stone-filled ground seemed to go on for miles, and at moments, he thought he could see the Silent City’s entrance. He had called them for another meeting on tracking Sebastian, but he was hesitant to step past the graveyard this time. Each time before, he had been able to throw his walls up and ignore everything he felt as he marched past the gravestones to the City of Bones, but he struggled this time.

 

Today marked the day _she_ had been murdered before his eyes just two years ago. Flashes of the events always seemed to plague his mind. Hair as bright as a blaze swinging around her body as she spun her sword at her brother. Then the flame burnt out, and everything’s been dark since. At this moment, seeing all the dead around him, he couldn’t help but see her there, six feet under—lifeless.

 

A shiver wracked its way down his body, and he clenched his fists in an attempt to fight it.

 

There was a mist encompassing the graveyard, and the entrance gate was still swinging closed from where he had thrust it closed. It had nearly come off its hinges. The clouds were dark and gray, and the rain left a fishy smell, but in the distance was a shot of sunlight. The storm had come from nowhere, but here it was, dampening up his already shadowy mood. Go figures, why not kick him while he’s already down? What else could he possibly lose?

 

_Izzy, Alec, Simon, Maryse, Robert, Luke…Jocelyn._ His mind tried to tell him. He knew that he couldn’t afford to lose _them_ either, but he figured that at this point, he’s already lost so much that losing someone else wouldn’t be all that much of a surprise. Somehow, even the vampire had weaseled his way into his life. He would never admit it to anyone, but he couldn’t even count on his hand the number of times Jace and Simon would sit in Simon’s apartment just…talking. It had started off as them reminiscing about _her_ , and then it was like they both needed the other…each being of the two most important people in Clary’s life.

 

Sucking in a harsh breath, he forced the thoughts away. Just thinking her name did unspeakable things to his sanity.

 

Alec had insisted on coming with him, wanting to be there in order to relay the information to the Institute and ask about news on the last of the renovations on Idris, but Jace had really just wanted to go on his own. Each time he had come to talk with the Silent Brothers, he couldn’t help the flare of boiling anger that erupted from him afterwards, and the last thing he needed was for them to have another fight. Every time they failed at finding Sebastian, he just felt the same pain and rage he had experienced that day in Edom. Today, Alec had reminded him of the uselessness of trying to track him, and it had nearly landed him a fist to the face. Him asking to go with Jace just didn’t seem like one of his best ideas.

 

Nevertheless, Alec did need to go down to the Silent City, just a bit later. The Nephilim still had not fully recovered from the fight against Sebastian’s army, but they weren’t backing down just yet. If anything, Sebastian indirectly brought about a surge of unity among the Shadow World that they never would have even dreamed of.

 

Shadowhunters, werewolves, and vampires had all pledged to help rebuild the city. Faeries had been fairly reluctant to help, considering the--ah-- _rules_ placed upon them due to their involvement against the Shadowhunters. Some came to help, though, but most were still seething from their sentence. Helen Blackthorn had heavily voiced that she would come and help, but her exile in Wrangel Island proved difficult, and the Clave would not allow her back in.

 

Jace hadn’t even bothered to keeps tabs on the Blackthorns and that Carstairs girl Clary had taken an interest in, but Alec had. Occasionally, Alec would give updates about that family, but Jace typically tuned out his _Parabatai_ when he brought them up. He didn’t need to feel guilty about a decision from the Clave that he hadn’t even had a say in.

 

The air around him was frigid and icy, but he didn’t really seem to notice. Only the gentle patter of rain on his face kept him at least a little focused.

 

Marching through the cemetery, each step felt like pins and needles as his thoughts attacked his mind with every _squelch_ of his boots.

 

Everything from the fight today with Alec to the memory of watching _Heosphoros_ plunge into Clary’s heart, red blood blending in with the red gear, rampaged through his body like a tornado. Everything he felt seemed to collide with everything he thought, a constant war always battling in his body. The war raged on until his own heart started sputtering and his knees buckled.

 

The grass sunk beneath the pressure of his knees, mud soaking through his ripped jeans. He thrust his hands into the wet earth to stop his shaking arms, fingernails digging into the mud. Still, his arms didn’t stop shaking. The wall he had thrust up defensively over these past couple years seemed nonexistent now. Guess it’s hard to keep the walls up when there’s no one around to hide yourself from. Everything he had been hiding from even _himself_ barreled at him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop the attack.

 

Well, more like he _didn’t_ do anything to stop the attack. He deserved it. Meetings with the Silent Brothers, Magnus, and even the Clave had done absolutely nothing in terms of figuring out _what_ went wrong on Edom. He and the others had been drilled and drilled on what happened against Sebastian and the Endarkened that night, but each time they were left even more confused.

 

It was like Sebastian had known every possible outcome.

 

Eventually, the Clave had decided that Clary was dead, and their only priority was to protect what they had salvaged and be ready against any attack Sebastian might have planned for them next. Even _they_ had given up on tracking the last living Morgenstern.

 

_I should have stayed with her._ He told himself, both hands now caked with mounds of mud as he leaned back on his ankles, eyes glazed as they stared at the dirt.

 

_And done what? Alec had been hurt, you couldn’t have just left your_ Parabatai  _like that._ He had started this little game about year ago, playing good cop and bad cop on himself.

_She shouldn’t have been alone…_

“Jace Herondale?” A muffled voice cut through the pouring rain and his thoughts, just barely loud enough for Jace to hear him.

 

Jace sighed, an interaction with anybody other than a Silent Brother was the last thing he wanted right now. Looking up, the rain cascaded off the back of his head and down his back, but he didn’t seem to care. He was drenched anyway. A tall boy stood a couple feet away, also drenched, but it seemed to bounce off his leather clothes. He had brown hair and blue eyes, looking eerily similar to someone he couldn’t put his finger on.

 

Almost half-heartedly, Jace raised both his arms off to the side and turned his golden eyes to the blue ones. “The one and only,” he drawled out, letting his arms fall harshly to his side, a glare sparking in his eyes.

 

“I’m here on behalf of a friend; she needs your help.” The boy said, hands fisted tightly together against his stomach. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the boy’s features a little more. He was taller than Jace originally thought, probably about six foot four. He did have a baby face, and the natural upturned corner of his mouth showed that he was probably used to smirking. His fingers were curled around a stele in one hand and a seraph blade in the other, as if he expected a fight.

 

Jace’s face hardened. “I don’t help people anymore. If the Clave wants to stop helping me, then I guess all those years of my _undying_ servitude to their cause meant nothing, so I quit. More time to practice my knitting.” 

 

The boy’s brows furrowed, a scowl slithering across his face. He crossed his arms across his chest, glaring. “So, you’re just going to stop doing everything you were born to do because they hurt your feelings?”

 

A shot of hot anger coursed down his veins. In an instant, Jace was on his feet, body wet with rain and mud. “I’d watch it, little boy.” But then he turned his face to the side, anger replacing his earlier depression. “I’m not giving up on the mission. I’m giving up on the cause.” His eyes met the boy’s again, a new resolution in them that he was sure the boy could read.

 

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed. “What does that even-”

 

“It means I’m done following a people who think their law is above all else, people who use and abuse their warriors and then leave them to rot when they outlive their purpose.” Jace was face-to-face with the boy before he could even blink. “When I was taken by Sebastian, they weren’t looking for me. All they cared about was finding _him_ and didn’t give a crap about what would happen to me. If I had simply gone missing, they probably never would have thought _twice_ about cutting their losses.” The golden boy eased back on his heels a little as he lowered his voice and turned his chin up at the blue-eyed boy.

 

“I’m done playing by their rules.” He added coldly, face hardening. The corners of the dark-haired boy’s mouth turned down, sympathy snaking across his face. Jace loathed that look. He was tired of it. It was his fault she was gone, and people needed to stop looking at him as if it wasn’t.

 

The other boy shook his head, clearing the sympathy off his face, and a look of determination set on his face instead. “Look, Jace-” He started.

 

“No, just leave. I don’t need to explain myself to you, and I’m not in the mood.” Jace said, turning his back to him. He started back on his path to the Silent City, the trees around him swaying under the touch of the fierce wind and rain. Their leaves dripped with water like blood dripping off a corpse.

 

There was an exasperated groan, then- “Wait! I don’t think you understand-” He tried again.

 

“Just go-” Jace growled, fists clenching.

 

“-the girl who needs your help is Clary.”

 

Jace’s body went rigid. _Clary._ All the bones in his body reacted to those words. Before he himself even knew what was happening, he was back facing the direction he’d come from with the other boy pinned to the ground by his throat, Jace’s forearm pushing in. A low growl rumbled in Jace’s chest as he seethed at the boy beneath him, his legs straddling the kid’s hips. “Say her name again, and I will _obliterate_ you. She’s _gone._ You will _not_ use her name to get my attention like that again, otherwise, you’ll regret even waking up this morning. Hers is not a name you can use… _what?_ ” Jace breathed out, frustrated, chest heaving with labored breaths. The boy beneath him had been choking out his name, trying to get the golden boy’s attention. He released his pressure on his throat just an inch, annoyed.

 

“-ace, it _is_ Clary. She’s with Luke.” He coughed. “By the Angel,” he choked out, “let me breathe!”

 

Jace rolled off him, and the boy shot to his feet, attempting to fling water off his brown hair unsuccessfully.

 

Standing up slowly, Jace’s white shirt and jeans clung to his body.

 

_White silk when our bodies burn…_ Hers had never burned, but Jace’s soul sure had. The white had been the color he had become very familiar with over the past two years. He just _missed_ her. It left an ache in his body that never eased. He had gone through all the stages of grief only to go through them again the next week, and then the next, _and then the next._ It was an endless cycle. If what this boy said was true…

 

He knew the other boy was talking to him, but it was as if the storm was shielding his words, the rain and his thoughts working together to disconnect him from his body.

 

_Clary’s dead, Jace. Don’t listen to him,_ the voice said. _You know she’s gone. She’s gone, and she isn’t coming back. It’ll be easier if you just let go. Don’t fall for his words._

 

Jace was trying to ignore the voice; it’s  _Clary_ , he tried to convince himself. The voice spoke some more, but Jace shook it away and looked up, rainwater sliding down his body.

 

Suddenly, Jace was moving. His legs pushed his body into a sprint towards the entrances of the park and away from the Silent city. He knew one thing; he had to get to Luke’s. Whether she was there or not, he was going to find out. It would decide whether he was going to kill that boy or worship him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah. Okay. Let me just mention that this chapter was only 994 words in the first version, and it is now 2392. I’m really proud of how much better this version is than the first (it's still a little short, but whatevs). It might not be at the level I want it at, but the more I write this…the more I think I’ll better my writing. Sorry for such a long time between updates. Nobody is commenting, so I’m not really all that motivated, but I want to finish this story at least for myself. I know that this is really more of a closed fandom, but I was hoping some of the people who read the first version would have been interested in it being back. Oh well. Lol. I’m writing this for me…so maybe that’s all the motivation to continue. Anyway, if anyone is still reading this, please comment! Especially if you read the first version…I want to know if anyone remembers how awful it was. Lol.

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, this story might be a little paradoxical because of the time travel…but I didn’t really know how to change that…so just enjoy the story and forget the whole time-travel paradox thing. Also, the way I worded the time travel part is confusing, I know. If you don’t understand it, don’t fret too much over it. It’s not that important. Heh. Sorry. And yes, this is my second attempt. Yes, I am a super slow writer. I doesn’t help that I’m writing an original story on top of this one, but this one should be faster because I know where I’m going with the story, and all I need to do for 14 or so chapters is rewrite them and make them better (I had the other 14 chapters up on Fanfiction.net before I took them down and decided to rewrite it). The main reason I stopped writing this story was because I despised my old writing. There just felt like there was a ton of substance missing. But yeah. That's that.
> 
> Expect new chapters to be given in 2-week increments. If I finish one early, I will post it early. The 2-week thing is just to make sure that I have a schedule. My original story is a bit of a handful, so I gotta keep that in mind. But yeah. So. I hope y’all enjoy this rewrite.
> 
> Please comment and tell me how this is! I love constructive criticism, too, so don't be shy. Tell me if it's bad. Also, I'm a grammar Nazi, so if something is grammatically incorrect, please tell me. Just please don't forget to comment and give a Kudos!


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